


The Unseen: There is a Flower

by BecauseBoomerangs



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25653862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBoomerangs/pseuds/BecauseBoomerangs
Summary: A short story spin on S4 ep3 & 4 where Elliot seduces Olivia Cortez to hack into Cyprus Bank, but Dominique also sleeps with Olivia the night after and things get messy.
Comments: 2





	The Unseen: There is a Flower

**Author's Note:**

> An old cringey fanfic I wrote in a night. I can't dialogue so I took the beginning from the transcript.

Elliot paced back and forth in somebody else's apartment. Mr. Robot, in his sun-beaten green baseball cap and grey jacket, stood in the corner and rubbed his short greying beard.

“Olivia Cortez was Susan Jacob’s contact to Cyprus Bank.” Elliot recalled. _Susan Jacobs was E Corp’s lawyer. Cyprus Bank was the proxy bank the Deus Group set up to cover up their tracks._

“If we get into her account, we’ll be able to withdraw all of the Deus Group’s funds and prevent Whiterose from shipping her project to the Congo,” explained Elliot. _Whiterose created the Deus Group like two decades ago and has been controlling world events like the Iraq war behind the scenes ever since._

He let down his black hoodie, revealing the heavy bags under his eyes indicative of the late nights the cybersecurity engineer spent connecting court documents from Dark Army to Cyprus Bank and hacking Olivia’s Google account to see her calendar and when she would be out of her apartment. 

Mr. Robot sighed and leaned against the wall, “We have her account but it needs the RSA code on her security fob. It’s bank protocol for her to carry it around anywhere. We can’t be certain if she’ll fall for the phishing. Without her code, we don’t have shit.” 

Elliot rolled his neck, “I found a bottle of oxy in her bathroom. Her agreement with her ex-husband said that if she relapses, then he takes the kid away. We can use that.”

Mr. Robot’s eyes hardened. He closed the gap between them and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Hang on, kiddo. She’s a single mom who worked 2 years of night school to get this job. She’s not gonna risk that. She’ll send the Dark Army against us. I’d rather not die. Can’t we do a lil ol’ one-on-one and get it off her?”. 

Elliot stared Mr. Robot dead in the eyes and rebutted “We don’t have time for small talk.” 

~

“You’re gonna want to sit back down.” Elliot stopped Olivia from getting up and leaving the crowded bar. 

“What are you talking about?” Olivia asked puzzled, brushing the brown locks out of her face.

“'Cause I'm gonna buy you a drink.” Elliot avowed and put his elbow on the table. 

“I'm sorry, do I know you?” Olivia checked out Elliot’s black zip-up hoodie and black jeans in contrast to Olivia’s blue floral blouse and skinny jeans. 

“I'm Elliot. Now you know me.” He sat down across from Olivia. 

“I was just about to leave, actually. It's been a long day.” She tried to excuse herself, grabbing her bag and jingling her keychain that had the orange Cyprus Bank security fob. 

“Okay. I'll come clean. I couldn't help but notice you were stood up.” 

Olivia chuckled and looked down. 

Elliot entreated “Now, it's none of my business, but the guy's clearly a sack of sh1t to leave you alone on Christmas Eve, and if you'd let me, I'd like to buy you a drink to apologize for those of us who have done you wrong.” 

The waitress came by to their table and asked “Another round?”

Olivia paused, pondering whether she had anything better to do at home other than drink cheaper beer at home and fall asleep to _Jeopardy!_. She shrugged “Why not? It's Christmas Eve.”

Mr. Robot winked at Elliot from the bar. 

In the background, the bar played a Christmas carol that no one cared to recognize and hence ignored. 

_There is a flow'r sprung of a tree,_

_The root thereof is callèd Jesse,_

_A flow'r of price;_

_There is none such in paradise._

_~_

Elliot carefully snuck out of Olivia’s bed. She was sound asleep, arm over the cover and bare shoulders exposed. He tiptoed to Olivia’s purse and extracted her keys with the orange security fob. He took out his phone, the blue light illuminating his dilated eyes—Elliot and Olivia had one thing in common: they both did narcotics. But Elliot was clean for seven months, Olivia still had a bottle of oxy lying around in her bathroom cupboard. Snorting a line or two of coke would compromise it all. Elliot wasn’t naturally good at social interactions, in fact, Mr. Robot had to coach him to say the right things before he approached Olivia. That was a surprise success. No one could teach Elliot how to flirt, being a straightforward guy who also had a knack for lying. His voicebox transformed into a trumpet every time he tried to speak to a stranger. 

If he was nervous about this clandestine operation, he didn’t show it. Elliot sucked in air at steady controlled rate thanks to his years of experience in the field. He had messed up and been caught before, but he miraculously escaped the predicament. Sort of. A 6 month stint at a minimum-security prison for stealing personal data after taking the a**hole’s dog taught the vigilante to prioritize anonymity. What saved him from a longer sentence was the lack of evidence. Covering his tracks consisted of drilling holes in his hard drive and microwaving the DRAM, BIOS ROM, and CMOS RAM chips. He quicky texted an end-to-end encrypted message to his sister, Darlene, who was waiting for him to send the 8 digit RSA code, that changed every 60 seconds, to access Olivia’s account. 

[11:37 PM] **Elliot** : Are you ready?

[11:37 PM] **Darlene** : Yeah

[11:37 PM] **Elliot** : [image of security fob]

[11:38 PM] **Darlene** : I’m in

_~_

Amazon Echo’s blue circle of light emanated from Dominique’s bedside table. Other than the blue glow, her room was depressingly dark. Dom laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. “Alexa, when is the end of the world?”

“Unless a future technology goes very wrong indeed, Earth is most likely to be destroyed in several billion years time.” Dom turned on her side and sighed. Then she got up and opened up her laptop. The light form her screen reflected her frown. She opened up IRC and she immediately received a ping. 

[10:16 PM] **happyhardon2349** : hey hun. what r u doing here on xmas? 

She hesitated then typed a response to expel the notion from her head. 

[10:16 PM] **deeepsteeep** : same reason you are. 

[10:17 PM] **happyhardon2349** : haha

[10:17 PM] **happyhardon2349** : here’s a crazy idea

[10:17 PM] **happyhardon2349** : what if i came over IRL and spent the night with u? 

[10:18 PM] **deeepsteeep** : ???

[10:18 PM] **happyhardon2349** : cmon its xmas. we’re both alone. why not be alone together? 

[10:19 PM] **deeepsteeep** : ok

[10:19 PM] **deeepsteeep** : 3992 silversand rd. #304 

[10:20 PM] **happyhardon2349** : i’ll be there in 20

Dom bit her lip as soon as she sent her address and winced when he confirmed his arrival time. A semi-stranger from the internet was coming over and she wasn’t the least concerned about safety, feeling for the Glock under her pillow and putting it back into her holster as she got out of bed. The redhead with bed hair had to look presentable now and change out of yoga pants and an old oversized NEW JERSEY t-shirt. She stowed away her FBI badge in her gun safe. 

~

At almost a quarter to eleven, someone knocked on Dom’s door. She answered it, in black shorts and a comfy green knit sweater, and to her surprise, it was a short woman with shoulder-length brown hair wearing a blue winter coat and a blue beanie. Dom raised her eyebrows, prompting the woman to speak “Hi. Is this deeepsteep?” 

Dom nodded and furrowed her brows in confusion. “Yes. I thought you were a guy.” 

The woman, now known as happyhardon2349, blushed, “I forgot to tell you that I like to pretend I’m a guy online. I hope that doesn’t change things.”

Dom understood the struggle of sexual harassment when the consequences were detached sitting behind a screen. “No, it doesn’t. I get it.” 

~

Dom’s eyes fluttered open and she shrunk back, startled, at the sight of a woman sleeping next to her. Then she remembered reluctantly sharing the covers, being accustomed to spreading her entire body over the queens size mattress, and enjoying herself. Her Christmas night was a little less lonely with the addition of Olivia Cortez; Dom managed to get her name. It was lovely watching her sleep peacefully even for that one night as most hookups last. She went to the washroom to search for some Tylenol. The cold weather did nobody favours. It was already 7 am and it was still groggy and dark out. 

Dom heard rustling and decided to stay in the bathroom for a little longer to allow Olivia to leave without bumping into her and therefore, avoiding unnecessary awkwardness. If Dom wasn’t seen around in her small studio apartment when Olivia woke up, the other possible explanation would be the bathroom. Even if Olivia had to pee, Dom would have expected her to hold it in and leave instead of facing that early morning chitchat where they could talk about absolutely nothing except how they both took advantage of one another as part of their regular hedonistic adventures because they both could not hold down long-term relationships for whatever reason. 

Dominique was on the verge of graduating law school when her long-term boyfriend, also attending law school, proposed to her. She could not do it. On the date at the restaurant, Dom excused herself and crawled out of the bathroom window never seeing him again. She blocked his cell and refused to answer her door when he came around looking for an answer. She dropped law school to work for the FBI and was stuck bumming around, given up on love, with long hours at the bureau working late into the night. Perhaps it was something to occupy herself with and it was the most ambition she could exert to sate her overachiever family. 

Interestingly enough, Olivia burst into the bathroom. Olivia’s eyes were focused on Dom and pointed an accusatory finger at Dom “You knew I was the American correspondent for Cyprus Bank. You found me online and befriended me so you could sleep with me to steal the RSA code off my security fob to get into my account. You think I wouldn’t f*cking know?” She held her phone with two email notifications. One regarding an unknown location accessing her account and the other a notice of dismissal for breach of strict security protocol with NO SEVERANCE underlined. “F*ck you!” Olivia lunged at Dom with a clenched jaw and clenched fists, ready to choke her out. 

Between the two women, Dom had more hand-to-hand combat experience. Dom tried to dodge but Olivia’s knuckle managed to connect with Dom’s cheek and grabbed onto Dom with her other hand. Dom was disoriented for a few seconds as they grappled in the limited space until Dom threw the shorter woman onto the bathtub. Olivia hit her head on the enameled porcelain steel and slumped to the ground unconscious. Dominique breathed heavily and placed a hand on her injured cheek, trying to catch her breath. She needed a Tylenol _and_ an aspirin now. The agent always separated her work life from personal life so she couldn’t have possibly exposed herself for an undercover mission, but she knew that the only person capable of executing such a maneuver was Elliot Alderson. 

~

Elliot and Darlene, in heavy black makeup and attire, were working on their laptops. A lifetime ago, Darlene worked with the FBI, specifically Dom, about the Dark Army in exchange for immunity for her computer crimes. The fans spun loudly and hard drives whirled, working overtime to keep up with the hackers’ processes. Dominique kicked open the door of the apartment located in the shady part of NYC Chinatown. The siblings’ heads turned to face Dom, with a bruised cheek looking like she came out of a scuffle, pointing a gun at Elliot and shouted, “Why are you trying to get into Cyprus Bank? Explain why I had to knock out Olivia Cortez in my apartment for trying to _kill_ me! She thought I stole her RSA code and hijacked her account.” She switched her aim on Darlene, “And you. You don’t have witness immunity anymore. I can arrest you right now and put you away for at least two years.” 

Elliot slowly raised his hands above his head and stood up while Darlene sat in her seat, eyes wide, with her hands up above her head too. 

He beseeched Dom, “This is our last chance to take down the Dark Army and the Deus Group. You know there are a group of rich and powerful elites in the back controlling world governments and money flow like puppeteers. Remember how Santiago insisted on shutting down the Dark Army case. Didn’t you suspect he was a double agent? Imagine someone more powerful than the president or the head of the FBI controlling the special agent in charge of the NYC division? Don’t you want to help us end that?” 

Dom nodded her head slowly and lowered her gun. “What do I do about Olivia Cortez? I had to zip tie her hands and duct-tape her mouth. I don’t know when she’ll wake up.” Elliot waived it, “Don’t worry about her now.” He turned back to his desk and then froze, staring at the desk lamp. Something was wrong with the light. A small rectangular shadow. He reached his hand in next to the bulb,

“F*ck. They’re listening.” and held up the distinctive green chip. 

Out on the street below, a fake Santa was still shaking his bell and belting out a carol. No one could verify the lyrics. 

_There is a flow'r sprung of a tree,_

_And it attracts many bugs to thee._


End file.
